


Supernatural Reader Inserts

by sinistrosblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-19 10:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11311878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistrosblack/pseuds/sinistrosblack
Summary: So far, those include Dean, Sam, Castiel, Gabriel and Lucifer.Send a request if you can't find what you're looking for!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Supernatural or its characters, and I am in no way affiliated with CW.

I write reader inserts, not ships or OTP.

I don’t write smut, but triggering ideas can be accepted within a limit.

If you don’t know the limit, ask away and you’ll see!


	2. I cried because I dropped my shirt trying to get dressed and can’t reach it [SamxPregnant!Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I cried because I dropped my shirt trying to get dressed and can’t reach it.”
> 
> Pairing : SamxPregnant!Reader 
> 
> Wordcount: 948 words
> 
> Warnings: mild cursing

When expecting a child, there are things you can do and things you can’t do, and then there’s this weird category of things you could do at some point but were unable to execute as time went by. The first category included a massive selection of boring activities, such as knitting, baking or any manual activity you had never quite had the time to develop an interest in with your hunting career.

In the second category, there was first and by any means foremost, hunting with Team Free Will, which Sam had begged you to quit until at least the birth of your child; but also some sports you liked to practice in your free time. And the third category was made of little things of everyday life that you discovered you couldn’t do like you used to before, and the restriction just happened to appear one day out of the blue: whether it was reaching on your tiptoes to catch a cereal box or getting up from a sitting position from the couch, it was frustrating for you to discover that your growing belly made you such an invalid. Of course, when the boys were around, they would never mind giving you a hand, especially Sam who was just about melting every time he saw you pass a doorstep and who was a bit more head over heels for you each passing day.

But it hurt your pride, and you didn’t want to be so needy for simple tasks like that. You only were 6 months pregnant, you should’ve been able to care for yourself!

This morning, it was dressing up that caused you another new problem. You had decided to go for stretch pants, which had taken about ten minutes to be put on, and paired it with a big casual t-shirt, but as you grabbed it by the hem it slipped between your fingers, crumpling to the floor. You bend as much as your belly allowed it, but were too far to even pinch it. Even as you kneeled, you somehow couldn’t grab it, your belly always being in the way.

“Are you fucking kidding me….” Hot tears started streaming down your face without you even realizing you were crying, but when you did realize it only made you cry even more: you were tough as nails, but a t-shirt would make you cry? Who were you, and what had happened to the strong [Y/N]?

“[Y/N]?” Crap, it was Sam. “Are you okay?” You heard his footsteps coming closer to your room.

“I’m fine.” You sniffled. Oh, great job reassuring him [Y/N]. He trotted up to your door, appearing at the threshold. Upon seeing you on the floor, his expression shifted from concern to panic, and he rushed to your side, helping you to a sitting position on the bed.

“What happened? Did you fall? Is it the baby?” You shook your head, looking away. You couldn’t tell him the reason for your irrational crisis, but he kept pressing for an answer, enumerating the different scenarios he had in mind.

“Just tell me what’s going on, Princess, I just want to know why you’re crying…” he practically begged you, cupping your face tenderly.

“I dropped my shirt, okay?” He gave you a questioning look, then followed your gaze onto the culprit still laying on the floor. “I was crying because I dropped my shirt and couldn’t pick it up…”

“Oh, [Y/N], it’s normal, with that belly of yours!” He smiled, kissed your forehead and picked the shirt up for you.

“I hate it, Sam!” You suddenly burst. “I hate that I’m such a burden and an invalid, roaming around he bunker helplessly, always in need for your help, or Dean and Cas’s, and I hate that I can’t do simple things like dress up without crying and needing assistance…” You plopped your back dramatically on the bed, crying again.

Sam hesitated for a second, before laying next to you, also staring at the ceiling. “[Y/N], you’re not a burden for any of us, I promise. We love helping you, it’s absolutely no bother. I understand that you might be under the influence of hormones, which is why you’re crying a lot, and it doesn’t bother us at all.” After a second of silence, he added: “Well, maybe it ticks Cas, but that’s just because he doesn’t understand human emotions very well yet and has no idea how to deal with them.” You actually chuckled at that: poor Cas had had to deal with your hormonal outbursts more than once, and it had always been very awkward on both parties. “I love everything about you, and in case you haven’t caught on yet, you being pregnant only increased my adoration for you. I guess that’s my hormonal outburst. Nothing any of your books mentioned, eh?” All sadness forgotten, you laughed wholeheartedly at his silliness.

He helped you sit up, and you didn’t even protest against it this time: “So, are you willing to stop being your tough self, and start allowing me to help you without feeling bad about it? Just for three months?” He asked, still holding your hands.

“Who knows, I might even get used to it…” you teased him, and he applied another kiss to your palms, happy to see you joyful again.

“Put on your shirt, lil’ Mama, we got some business that requires the eye of a pro… if you’re still able to look at maps and run a brainstorming, that is…”

“Oh, you wanna play like this, Sammy?” He winked at you, tossing the shirt at your face. “You wouldn’t want to make a pregnant woman emotional, would you, now?”


	3. Will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party? [GabrielxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party so they’ll stop harassing me about being single, there’s food in it for you.”
> 
> Pairing: GabrielxReader
> 
> Word count: 1220 words

Christmas time was known as the most magical time of the year for almost everyone on Earth, but as a hunter it had always been just one day like the others. On some occasions, you had treated yourself to a special thing to eat, but you usually just worked cases and forgot altogether that it was even Christmas day.

But the past year had been completely different for you: you had met people and stuck with them, growing attached to a certain little gang of hunters, and learning to work along with a team. The first few weeks had been difficult to say the least, but you had grown used to it with time, even enjoying the company you could have while you all worked. There was no need to talk, just sitting with them and sensing their presence was enough.

Whenever Sam and Dean had to go, they tried to leave Bobby or Castiel with you, but sometimes they all had to go while you worked researches on your own. It was on those occasions that Gabriel would visit you: having caused quite a few troubles to the brothers, he knew he wouldn’t exactly be welcomed with open arms if he randomly showed up while they were here, so he only visited when he was sure they’d be gone.

You cherished those visits, having a soft spot for the archangel, although you would never admit it to anyone, especially not him. You weren’t sure how everyone missed the coy smiles you had and the faint blush of your cheeks each time he was mentioned, but it was fine this way.

Today was one of your alone days, the team had left on a case across the State and wouldn’t be back within a week, missing Christmas on Sunday evening. Anyway, you wouldn’t have been able to celebrate with them, since your family had gotten in touch with you lately, inviting you for dinner this year again. They always made sure to invite you to celebrate Christmas with them in your hometown in Vermont, but it was a long way to go and your cases usually blocked you from going. It had been about five years since your last family meeting, and you burned to see them again on Christmas this year. Your mind drifting to your family, you didn’t even notice Gabriel appearing in the room until he poked the little tree you had put up, producing a clink.

“So you’re a Christmas kinda person, then?” he commented, smiling. You turned to him, cheeks flushed pink.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to celebrate it, I’m just getting in the mood,” you dismissed it. You had been putting up cute decorations around the room, cheering up the gloomy atmosphere a bit.

“What got into you, you seem awfully happy today!” he sat on the couch next to you, and you crossed your legs under you, shifting your position to face him. “You happy to see me, or is just the birthday of my half-brother that gives you so much joy?”

“Both.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders and tugging at your sleeves. “You know, I’m seeing my family for Christmas this year!”

His hazel eyes lit up, and smiled again. “That’s great news, [Y/N]! You’ll finally be able to deal with the 6-hour long family dinner, the shrieking cousins and the unceasing questions about every detail from your private life! After all, it’s been quite some time since your folks saw you, they have some catching up to do this year.”

You hadn’t even thought of this, and it was true your family was quite nosy: you’d have an endless flow of questions to answer from the moment you stepped a foot in the house. What if they asked about your love life? Surely they would come to ask you if you were seeing anyone, and what would you say? It would end up with your mother scolding you for putting your career before anything else, and your grandmother would mutter something about the family line dying out, then your sisters and their fiancés would exchange knowing looks and probably announce pregnancy news or something in that line. It always happened like that in movies, and you had a feeling it wouldn’t be that different for you.

You could always tell them you fancied someone, but that would probably worse: even then, what could you tell them about Gabriel? “Oh he’s handsome and funny, and did I mention he was an archangel who’s as old as the Earth?” Yeah, pass. Anyways, you were facing a wall, and not knowing what you’d tell them stressed you way much than it should’ve.

“Are you okay? You’ve zoned out for five minutes.” You snapped out of your thoughts as a hand stroke your shoulder gently. You met Gabriel’s eyes, swallowing hard and your heart beating increasingly fast. Could you be bold enough to…? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out. I’m sure your family will know when to drop the questions.” You shook your head.

“No, you’re right. They’re the questioning type and… I can’t get mad at them for that. After all, I’m the one who left for years without looking back.” Your voice was lower and sadder than before, and you looked around. Now that you thought of it, you weren’t even sure you would want to go: how could you face your family after abandoning them? Gabriel frowned, and cupped your chin, making you stare right into his soft brown eyes.

“Don’t be sad, okay? I’m sure your family doesn’t hold a grudge that you left. All kids do, you know? You aren’t supposed to stay home all your life, one day you have to fly with your wings. Your parents knew you’d leave the house, sooner or later, and that they’d have to let you go. Don’t beat yourself up because you’ve been living your own life.” You nodded sadly, and he pulled you into his chest. His embrace was warm, he smelled faintly of caramel and you could hear his steady heartbeat. You could’ve stayed that way forever.

“Gabriel?” you heard yourself ask. Oh jeez, here goes nothing… He mumbled in acknowledgment, still holding you close. “Willyoupretendtobemydatetomyfamily’sparty?”

He pulled away from the embrace, holding you by your shoulders and trying to decipher your lobster-red face. “What did you say?”

You cleared your throat, and although you burned in shame both inside and outside, you repeated the question: “Will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party so they’ll stop harassing me about being single? There’s food in it for you.” you quickly added, hoping to make the question less awkward.

“Are you sure I’m the right candidate to pass as a perfect boyfriend?”

“I know you’re the one I want- to be my boyfriend- for the party!!” you kept adding bits to your sentence, but it kept sounding awful and you just buried your face in your hands. Gabriel chuckled and shook his head.

“How adorable can you get?” he mumbled, pushing your hands away and leaning in closer to your face. “I’ll be your date for Christmas, [Y/N], and I’ll behave. Promise.” He pecked your cheek softly, and disappeared immediately after in a snap, leaving you a flustered and red mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve written a Part Two for this. Y’all interested?


	4. Nephilim Reader [CastielxNephilim!Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is a nephilim, a very powerful half-human, working with Sam and Dean without telling them its real identity. But when Dean is saved from Hell by Castiel, and the angel meets the Reader, he sees right through them.
> 
> Pairing: none, slight CastielxReader
> 
> Word count: 1774 words

You picked up your ringing phone to hear Ruby’s voice:

“Ruby,” you greeted her. “Everything in order?”

“Not exactly. I just left Sam at the motel, you’ll never guess with who.” You sat back into your motel couch, flipping through your mental yellow pages of the people you knew.

“I don’t know, Bobby?” Sam had completely shut Bobby out since Dean’s death, so it would be quite surprising to see him have a sudden change of heart.

“Not even close,” the demon said. “Dean.”

You went silent, as your mind raced around the thought. “That’s so not funny, Ruby.” You finally managed to articulate. “Dean is-”

“Dead, I know that; I was there, remember?” She huffed. “But it is him. I have no idea how he came back, or who helped him, but whoever did this…”

Your eyes went wide at the realization of what she was saying. Dean had been saved from Hell by someone, he had to have been because he was just human and couldn’t have done it on his own. Sam and you had tried everything in your power to bring him back, and with all of your abilities and knowledge combined you had never managed to even make the hunter’s corpse toss. Whoever had done this was powerful, beyond measure, and that was especially bad news to Ruby, and foremost to you.

Your angelic ascendance on your father’s side made you a nephilim, one of the most powerful creatures known to mankind, and although you used your powers for good deeds you were still an undesirable number one in Heaven’s eyes. Both your parents had given their lives protecting you from Angels, and ever since you had laid a low profile, helping with supernatural problems.

A few years ago, you had met Sam and Dean on a case, and they had saved your skin against demons; you had repaid them by saving their skins on numerous occasions, and they had agreed to you tagging along when they needed help. The brothers had long been suspicious of your strength, agility and hyper-developped senses, but you always dismissed it as life-long hunting training. If they had known you weren’t human, they would’ve killed you on the spot, so you had to hide your origins. You actually enjoyed working as a hunter with the Winchesters, they were good colleagues and even better friends: it had been excruciating to lose Dean, and you had tried everything you could to save him, but if there was one thing you couldn’t control, it was who died and who lived. Nobody could control that.

And yet, Dean was back, in the flesh, which meant some greater power was out there.

“[Y/N]?” Ruby asked on the other end. “Are you still there?”

“Sorry, I was… preoccupied.” You sighed. “Ruby, what kind of creature can bring people back from Hell?”

“I have very few guesses, but either way it’s really bad news for us. Whatever did this is powerful enough to vaporize you and me in a snap. I suggest we both lay low for a while; maybe try to avoid the Winchesters as much as you can.”

You agreed, but as you ended the conversation you knew you were too curious to resist a visit to the boys. First of all, because you wanted to see Dean again, but also because that creature intrigued you to no end.

Your mind wandered back to your parents, and more specifically to your dad: angels were powerful creatures, but your dad had been defeated that night they had come for you. You had never known what had killed him and your mom, but you had a feeling Dean’s savior was the key to your revelations. You had to meet it, even if it was the last thing you did. Besides, Sam and Dean wouldn’t let it just kill you off, right?

You traveled quickly. It was not exactly as smooth as snapping your fingers, but it was fast enough. Facing the door to Bobby’s house, you knocked vigorously.

“Bobby, it’s me! Open up!” the door opened, and you were greeted by holy water thrown to your face. “Honestly, is this really necessary?” You grunted, wiping your face to look at an apologetic Bobby.

“Sorry [Y/N]. Some weird things are happening lately, and we can never be too sure. Come on in.” He stepped aside to let you in, glancing nervously outside.

“Where is he?” you asked, looking everywhere. As you saw him sitting at their usual working table, your heart grew three sizes. It was really him. “Dean.” You said, your voice barely audible, before you jogged up to him and embraced him tight.

“Hey [Y/N], it’s been a while.” he chuckled, hugging you back.

“Who was it?” you asked, breathless. “Who pulled you out, Dean?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You crossed your arms at that.

“Dude, you’ve just come back from the dead. I think I can handle another shot of unbelievable right now.”

He sat back down. “It was an angel.” Your blood dropped to your feet at this. “He said his name was Castiel.”

Too many questions were sprouting in your head, but no sound would come out of your mouth. The information was too overwhelming to you: first of all Dean living, then angels actually saving lives, and all the possible connections to the landmarks in your life… you wondered if that Castiel was responsible for your parents, or if he knew who was. Anyways, you knew you needed to have a little chat with the winged man, so you stuck around. Bobby inflated a mattress for you, and you decided to sleep in the kitchen, away from the noise the boys made while sleeping, and on the cool floor tiles.

You were barely asleep when you caught sight of a shadow leaning above you, and you woke up immediately as its owner swung a blade at you. Blocking the hit, you struck the attacker in the stomach and got up as it stumbled backwards. As it walked up to you, you distinguished a man with dark hair and a trench coat, but you didn’t have much time to take in his appearance as he tried to stab you again. Grabbing a hold of his clothes, you teleported the two of you outside, where no one would hear you fight, and you brutally pinned him to the ground.

“Why are you trying to kill us?” you questioned, slamming his shoulders into the dirt as he doesn’t answer. “Who are you?”

“Castiel. And I wasn’t trying to kill the Winchesters.” At the mention of his name, you stiffened, still holding him down.

“You’re the angel,” you muttered, “you’re the one who saved Dean!”

As he tried to break free, you strengthened your grip on him. “I should be kissing your ass for that, but since you’re trying to kill me I guess I don’t owe you anything. What did I do to you?”

“You can’t live.” He simply stated. “I have been sent to erase you.”

“Erase me- what the Hell are you talking about?” you were speaking much louder than you intended to, forgetting your proximity to Bobby’s house and its sleeping inhabitants. “Who sent you?”

“You and I both know very well that you can’t be alive, [Y/N].”

“And how do you know my name?!” Now clearly beyond pissed off, you started throwing punches instead of asking questions that would remain unanswered. Your hand was suddenly held back by a third party, and your body was pulled away from Castiel’s.

“[Y/N] stop!” Dean commanded, standing between you and the angel. “He’s on our side.”

“He tried to kill me!” you protested without thinking. Dean turned to Castiel.

“Is this true?” The hunter growled, and Castiel’s eyes never left you as he nodded in answer to Dean’s question.

“Dean, I’m on a mission. Please do not interfere.”

“What are you talking about, what mission? If you’re going to hurt my friend, then damn yes I’m going to interfere!”

Castiel stared blankly at Dean, then back at you. “You never told them, did you?”

As Dean turned to look at you, you felt your stomach churn. This was it. “Will someone just tell me what’s going on, here?” roared Dean.

“It just so happens that your friend here is a nephilim,” spilled Castiel before you could say anything. “and Heaven can’t have her roaming free, so they sent me to terminate her.”

“A nephilim? Terminate her?!” Dean was probably on the verge of punching Castiel by now, so you decided to end it, once and for all. At least, by the time you were done, he wouldn’t have any remorse letting the angel kill you.

“It means I’m not human.” You explained. “Well, not completely. My dad was an angel, my mom was human. But such relationships are not allowed, much less half-breed descendants. So they killed my parents for their… abomination of a relationship, and now he’s here to finish the job. Ain’t that right Castiel?” You spat, tears forming in your eyes. It was only a matter of minutes until you were wiped from the surface of the Earth. You would never get to see your friends again, never get to say goodbye. The angel nodded, and Dean just ran a hand in his hair.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

You huffed. “Yeah, because you guys would completely have let me work with you if you had known I held a power great enough to wipe off an entire city. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that really sounds like either you or Sam.”

“[Y/N].” Castiel intervened, softening a bit when you started crying angrily. “I’m very sorry it has to be this way, but you know it’s for the greater good.”

“The greater good, the greater good? You’ve been watching me, Castiel, you and all your feathery buddies up there, and you know damn well that I’ve done nothing bad in my life! Ever!” Ignoring Dean, you came closer to the angel, pointing an accusing finger at him. “At the bottom of your heart, you know that what you’re doing isn’t for the greater good, Castiel. I’m powerful, and that scares your Dad, but I’m not dangerous, and you know that. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it for the others. Now if that makes you feel any better,” you extended your arms, “go ahead and do your Daddy’s dirty job.” Castiel looked reluctantly at you, his blade drawn but not prepared to attack. He was thinking over what you had just told him. Maybe there was a chance of saving your ass, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Should I do a Part two?


	5. Black Swan, White Swan [DeanxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is cursed by a witch and becomes her complete opposite overnight: from shy to outgoing, from insecure to sexy and self-assured… The curse can be broken if the reader’s lover sees right through it, but if it wins his affection without him noticing, the reader will die of a broken heart.
> 
> Pairing: DeanxReader 
> 
> Word count: 2295 words
> 
> Warning: mild cursing

“Holy crap, that was close!” You sighed, slumping down the wall next to the corpse of the witch you had just finished off. The door burst open, revealing the face you’d been dying to see all hunt: Dean eyed you carefully, before engulfing you in a tight hug.

“You okay [Y/N]?” He asked, looking at your face for any major injury. “The bitch got us trapped outside.”

“I’m fine, I took care of her. A whole lot of bother she was, but now it’s over.” You kissed your boyfriend intensely, glad to finally be reunited with him after a long hunt on your own. Sam broke the moment by flashing his torchlight in your eyes by accident.

“Sorry.” He examined the body of the witch, cringing. “Hey [Y/N].” He turned to face you. “Did she do anything before you killed her? You know, throw a spell, curse at you… usual witch things?”

You shrugged, trying to remember clearly what had just happened. “I don’t know Sam, everything happened real fast. I remember she muttered a few things before I killed her, but she didn’t seem finished when she died. And besides, I feel fine, so it can’t be bad, right?” Sam was silent for a few seconds, then rose from his crouching position.

“I guess not.”

Dean groaned at the monotony of your conversation. “Can we please burn that and leave? Not that I don’t love creepy, smelly old basements, but I’m starting to get real hungry here,” he complained, and you laughed.

“So this definitely didn’t take away your appetite?” He smiled, and kissed you again, dragging you out of the basement. You three went to the diner down your motel’s street, and stayed there until late into the night, celebrating another successful hunt.

You could handle drinks well, but it was still a surprise when you woke up the next morning and felt no hangover whatsoever. Making your way to the bathroom, you took with you a selection of dark, skin-tight clothes, the kind of clothes you never felt like wearing because of your self-consciousness: being a hunter meant scars all over your body, weird bruises everywhere after a hunt, but also a bad diet of quick meals which affected your weight, skin and hair. As much as you tried to hide it, you were insecure about many things, each day something new it seemed. Dean tried to help as much as he could with that, and you were thankful that he did, but it couldn’t simply go away.

But today was different. Today, you felt like a new person, a confident, sexy person as you got out of bed. Usually, that feeling disappeared as soon as you faced your reflection in a mirror, but as you did you felt no different. What you saw was beautiful in every way, there was nothing you didn’t like. Getting dressed was usually excruciating, but as you got into your skinny clothes you felt even better. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you smiled: Dean would just love that outfit. You’d never worn it, although he hinted that he would love to see you in those black skinny jeans and matching dark tank top. Your usual outfit consisted of comfortable, large blue jeans and equally large flannels, because it was practical for hunting and you didn’t risk exposing a body roll or anything you weren’t proud of while fighting. Shrugging off your old memories, you even decided to put on makeup, going with eyeliner and painted lips.

Today was different. Today was the day you began to believe in yourself, showing everyone how beautiful and important you truly were. Upon leaving the bathroom, you greeted the boys with your usual morning “Hey boys”, but even the tone in your voice was different this morning. It didn’t escape the brothers, who both looked up at you, their eyes widening at the sight of you.

“H-hey [Y/N],” stuttered Sam, while Dean eyed you carefully before walking up to you.

“Something here is different, but what?” He asked rhetorically, grabbing your waist. You were the one to initiate the kiss, a passionate one like you rarely gave usually. “Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

“Don’t be silly, it’s still me. I just decided to go for a different look today, and I’m guessing you like it.” You even winked at him, kissing him in the neck. Sam uncomfortably cleared his throat from behind you two, and you laughed, going over to him and kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry Sammy, you get a kiss too.” He wiped the lipstick stain from his cheek, and you laughed again at the childishness of the gesture. “Can we go get breakfast? I’m starving,” you whined, leaning backwards.

“Me too. Let’s go, Sam.” But the younger Winchester shook his head, and pointed at his books.

“I’m okay.” He said. “You go ahead, I’m not that hungry.”

“Alright, but don’t come complain afterwards,” Dean replied, joining you outside.

“What’s his deal?” you asked as soon as the door was closed. Dean just shrugged.

“He’s just being weird. You know how he is, sometimes. Speaking of weird, what has gotten into you today? Not that I don’t like it, but you’re looking smoking hot for a hunting day!” You linked hands with him, smiling.

“I just thought I’d make efforts. I mean, you deserve me at my best everyday, don’t you?” He eyed you strangely, and cracked a smile.

“Damn right, [Y/N].”

You two walked again to the diner, and you told Dean to sit down while you ordered at the counter. The guy behind it cleared his throat as you leaned forward, sticking both you butt and your cleavage out, making most of the people around you blush uncomfortably. You used your nicest voice to order what you wanted, but before you could finish Dean appeared at your sides. He finished your sentence, and brought you along with him at the table to sit down.

“Is something wrong, Dean?” You asked, leaning once more towards him. He tried to keep his eyes off your exposed neck, but clearly failed which made you smile.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He assured you. But when the waiter brought your orders and you shot him your best smile and thanked him with a soft voice, Dean just dragged you out of the diner by the arm, forgetting all about breakfast. Once outside, he let go of you, and you just put your hands on your hips.

“What was that for?” You complained, rubbing the red mark on your arm where he had held you tight.

“I could ask you the same; what has gotten into you today?” He replied, just as pissed as you were. “Not that I mind you working on your confidence and all, but that is not the way to do it [Y/N]!”

“I get it.” You crossed your arms, pouting. “You’re just jealous because I’m finally getting the attention I deserve and now I have people other than you to choose from.”

“Other people to- what are you talking about?” His voice was increasingly louder, people on the parking lot were staring at you two now. “I’m worried about you, you’re not acting like yourself this morning.” He approached a hand from your face, but you slapped it away.

“Yeah, right. The only thing you’re worried about is that I might finally realize that I deserve more than this miserable life with you and your brother.” Dean stiffened at the harshness of your voice, and clenched his jaw. “Oh, you can act all pissed now, that’s all you know how to do anyway. You’re just an angry little boy who cannot deal with his emotions other than in violence, Dean, and I’m tired of that!”

Dean had to hold himself back as he had to urge to punch something, but the only things available were you and brick walls, and he wanted to hit neither of the two. Even when you greatly pissed him off, or when you confronted him with himself, he would never lay a finger on you.

“You know what [Y/N], if that’s what you think then I suggest you don’t even come back to the motel with me. I wouldn’t want to force my miserable life onto the fucking queen you think you are.” He spat at you, getting back to the Impala.

“Walk away, Dean, that’s what you do best!” It made no sense to argue like that, but you just couldn’t hold back your anger, and you even flipped Dean off as he left the parking lot. You went back inside to eat your breakfast, even managing to eat for free by throwing a little charm here and there at the right people. Afterwards, you went on a digestive stroll; your anger quickly washed off, and you went back to your normal self, smiling at everyone you met. There was no way in Hell you’d go back to the motel, you had your pride and would wait for Dean to find you and apologize. If he didn’t, well that was his loss and you would walk away.

Just as you walked by a back alley, you were grabbed from behind and put to sleep before you could even scream for help. You woke up with a headache, and found you had been tied to a chair with… curtain holders? As you shook yourself from your hazy state, you noticed the room you were in was actually one of the motel you had been staying in with the brothers. You hadn’t been gagged, and could scream for help, but you had other plans on your mind.

“Tell me Dean, what kind of man kidnaps a woman because she doesn’t agree with him?” You had been right on the identity of your kidnapper, as Dean went around your chair, followed by Sam. “As for you Sam, I had higher expectations from you. But I guess it must run in the family; being cowards, I mean.” You smiled at the effect of the word on the brothers. Electing to ignore you, they turned the pages in their books and sat down on their beds, facing you.

“Can someone at least tell me why I have to be tied up, here?” You complained, rolling your eyes.

“Because you’re not [Y/N]. I knew something was off with you the moment you woke up this morning,” explained Sam, still not looking at you. “Can’t find what’s wrong with you, though.”

“Um, maybe because nothing’s wrong with me?” You huffed impatiently. “So what, being confident is a crime now?”

Dean got up and walked to you, resting his hands on both sides of the chair and leaning real close. You could smell he had already been drinking, just like every time he was really upset about something. “There’s a thin line between being confident and being a downright bitch, and you happen to have crossed it royally. In fact, the amount of bitchiness you have displayed today is abnormally high for your standards, and that’s how I know it’s not you.” Before you could protest, he splashed holy water at your face, but frowned at your lack of demonic reaction.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You muttered. “Let me go now, before I start screaming. Now!”

“Hold on Dean, I think I have something.” Dean shot you a warning look, and looked over Sam’s shoulder at the open book on his knees. “The Black Swan spell: when cast on a person, it reverses their personality. Only recognition from their peers can save the enchanted person; if the new personality of the person is accepted by their peers, then they will stay this way forever and-”

“And what?” You barked.

“And die of a broken heart.” Dean finished the sentence.

“A broken heart? Why would it break my heart?” You asked, genuinely intrigued by this nonsense.

“Apparently your old self is still in there, and if we fall for your alter ego, you’ll be stuck as a spectator of your own life, and let yourself die. Except, your whole body will die, not just the evil alter ego.”

You thought for a moment, before pulling on your restrains furiously. “This is bullshit. Now let me go, or I swear I’ll start screaming. Dean, let me go! Let me go!”

Dean moved quickly to you, gagging you before you could alert the neighbors. “How long til the spell wears off?”

“At midnight she should be back to her old self. Except if we screwed up today, then… we’ll have to look for another solution.”

Waiting until midnight tied to the chair was excruciating. The boys tried to feed you, but as you attempted to bite them they restrained themselves from trying again after that. Meanwhile, your mind was racing with the plannings of their murders, which developed until you fell asleep. A beeping sound woke you up, Dean’s watch alarm getting off. As it did, the boys rushed to you, carefully removing your restrains, and you jumped into Dean’s arms, covering him in kisses.

“Oh Dean, I’m so sorry for what I said. It was awful, I’m so sorry, please forgive me!”

Sam sighed, plopping himself back onto his bed. “I’m guessing you’re back to normal, [Y/N].”

“Feels good to be myself again.” You smiled. “Speaking of which, I’m probably going to change. I don’t feel that comfortable in those clothes anymore.”

“You know [Y/N], you’re welcomed to be confident anytime you want.” Dean said before you left to the bathroom. “As long as you don’t change back into that bitchy alter ego of yours.”

Your cheeks flushed a light pink, definite sign that you were back to normal at last, and you escaped the room.


	6. “Does he know about the baby?” [DeanxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: DeanxReader
> 
> Word count: 906 words
> 
> The reader hides her pregnancy from Dean, fearing his reaction. But Castiel and his legendary indiscretion force her to say the truth.

A hunter’s life was full of sacrifices, you’d known that from the moment when you had signed up for it. You had given up college, friendships and relationships to go after the supernatural kind, and had learned to live that way, without regretting your past. But life had been kind to you on occasions, making you cross paths with the Winchesters brothers and their adopted angel for example. Your beginnings had been bumpy to say the least, but there was something about chopping off heads together which had brought you all close, and you had fully integrated the team over time.

Instead of the usual loneliness, you had grown used to Castiel’s eternal confused state, to Sam’s occasional awkwardness and full-time nerdiness, and to Dean’s brooding grumpiness, loving that about them. Dean and you had grown surprisingly close, considering how he had held a blade to your throat on your very first meeting: in any other context, you would’ve called him your boyfriend, but you weren’t always sure about what the two of you really were.

That’s why the little sign on the pregnancy test made you freak out so much. You were pregnant from the man you loved, and you weren’t even sure he wouldn’t close every door on you if he knew about it. Besides, even if Dean chose to assume the responsibility of a family, you knew first-hand a child would be a burden in your hunter lifestyle. What would you do during hunts? Ask the angels to babysit? Sighing, you put the test away and pulled your hair into a neat ponytail, trying to appear less stressed than you really were. The brothers were pretty dense at times, and you hoped you could avoid telling them the truth so soon. You needed some time to think it over.

Exiting the bathroom, you joined them for researches, plopping yourself in a chair and faking a smile.

“You look cheerful,” noticed Dean, brooding a little less when he saw you. Sam and Castiel looked over at you, and the angel’s eyes scanned you carefully. Could he…?

“I’d say glowing,” he corrected. Jesus, he was going to- “is it because of-”

Kicking him in the shin under the table, you shut him up just in time. How could he know? Did he just feel the baby’s presence already? How was it even possible? The brothers traded weird looks.

“O-Kay,” said Dean. “y’all are even weirder than usual.”

“Yeah, what’s the case?” You interrupted, eager to move on. Sam explained the case once more, and you engulfed yourself into the researches to forget about your situation. After some time, the guys called for a break and left the room, leaving you and Cas at the table. The angel narrowed his eyes at you, and you tried to avoid his gaze for a moment before breaking.

“What is it, Cas?” You asked, throwing your hands in the air.

“Does he know about the baby?” He asked. “[Y/N]? Why aren’t you telling him?”

“And what good would that do, uh?” You barked, frowning. The angel frowned in return. “I’ll be lucky if I’m still allowed around here if he knows about this. No, I’m going to deal with this, and if you are in position to help me then I strongly suggest you do so.”

“You’re not seriously considering- [Y/N], that’s wrong,” gasped Castiel. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh please Cas, now’s not a good time for some pro-life crap. That’s rich, especially from an angel who kills whatever doesn’t walk straight.” you huffed, looking away.

“It’s not about this: this is your choice, but it will destroy you and you know it.” He tried to look into your eyes, but you kept averting your gaze to the walls, not daring looking the truth in the eyes. He was right, of course.

“I don’t have a choice, Cas. If Dean-”

“If Dean what?” Your blood dropped to your feet immediately, and you turned to see Dean leaning against the frame, arms crossed and brow furrowed. “One of you better start talking now.”

“[Y/N] is-” Cas started, but you silenced him by speaking louder than him, blurting tout he truth.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t know how, but I am and I’m sorry it happened and I’m sorry I hid it from you.” You wanted to look away, but you kept looking straight into Dean’s wide green eyes, eager for a reaction. Any kind of reaction. You were bracing yourself for a shout, maybe a brutal grip dragging you out, but instead he walked up to you and engulfed you into a tight hug.

“Don’t ever say something stupid like this.” He said, breathing into your neck. “You can’t be sorry about such great news.”

“But Dean… how will we manage a child with our lives?” He pulled away from the embrace, and cupped your face into his large hands.

“I have no idea.” He admitted. “Hell, it scares the crap out of me, but I’m with you all the way in this. There’s no way I’m letting you take care of it or walk away. We’ll manage, I promise.” He brought his lips to yours, kissing you more tenderly than he had ever done before. His words were true, his attitude reassuring, and suddenly you wondered why you had even worried in the first place. You should have known that Dean Winchester would never allow another fatherless child to roam this world.


	7. Yawns and confidence [CastielxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Give me more of Person A nuzzling into Person B’s neck because they’re cold and tired, and Person B melting.”
> 
> Pairing: CastielxReader
> 
> Word count: 643

With one last hit of your silver blade, you finished the werewolf off, letting its body slump to the floor lifelessly. You cleaned the gore off your blade, and wiped the sweat and sprayed blood off your face. The hunt had gone alright, the brothers had planned everything in details, and it had all happened according to plan. But the last few days had been rather busy, and you had only managed to catch a few breaks and little hours of rest. It was hard on your mind and mood, but even harder on your body, and you had pushed it to its limit by going on the hunt with the Winchesters anyway. Now that it was finally over, you finally realized how tired you really were as you met up with the rest of the team.

“Everything alright, [Y/N]?” asked Sam, patting your shoulder affectionately.

“Yeah, I’m just exhausted. I think I’ll skip celebrations tonight and head straight to bed,” you decided, popping your back. “I’m sure Dean can just drink my share, it shouldn’t be a bother.”

“As if I needed any excuses!” replied the hunter, cracking a smile. “Y’all going to sit in the car or do you intend on standing there all night?”

You shook your head frantically, taking place in the backseat of the Impala with Castiel. Finally letting your tiredness wash over you, you yawned and a shiver shook your body. The angel shot you a concerned look immediately.

“You’re shuddering.” He stated, scanning you for any injuries which could put you in such a state.

“I’m just-” you yawned again, “so, so tired. Do you mind-?”

At any other time, you would never have done any move towards the angel, but tired you had apparently no boundaries towards your long-time crush, and so you huddled closer to him. Ignoring the blush that crept on his face and the immediate tension in his shoulders as you touched him, Cas let you rest on him, moving his arm around you so you could be more comfortable. Letting the brothers snicker and cast the two of you meaning looks, you sighed happily, nuzzling your face into the angel’s neck. He radiated an impressive heat, and smelled faintly of lemon and cologne. His chest rose rapidly, he was visibly nervous from your proximity, but instead of moving away as you would have done normally you just took his hand, which probably made it a hundred times worse for him.

“It’s okay, Cas.” You told him, searching his escaping eyes.

“It’s just- I feel… weird, when you’re close like this, [Y/N]. It is not against you, but I don’t know why-”

“Weird, how?” You asked, still not moving away from Castiel’s body.

“I- it’s hard to explain. I get pains in my stomach, like I’m going to be sick, or sometimes my head feels like it’s about to explode with ideas until I actually have to talk and nothing comes to me. It’s all very confusing, but it always happens when you’re here.” He stared down into your eyes, frowning. “Do you know why it happens?”

“Guys, honestly?” Protested Dean from behind the wheel. “You had to crack open the lovey-dovey bag tonight? While I’m here to endure it?”

“Dean…” you started to retork, but you yawned again, and decided against it, instead just focusing on Cas again. “I think it’s… love, maybe?” You tentatively said, searching his face for any kind of emotions. He just frowned some more.

“I couldn’t say. It’s not something I’m used to. Love is a very human concept, you know?” He explained, leaning his head on yours unconsciously. “But if you think it is, I’ll trust you. I’m glad I first got to feel love with someone like you, [Y/N].”

Feeling your heart squeeze, you sighed happily into his neck. “Me too, Cas. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was way shorter than intended…sorry


	8. “You’re such a peculiar little thing.” [LuciferxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has an interest in the reader…
> 
> Pairing: LuciferxReader
> 
> Word count: 1436 words
> 
> Warnings: cursing, mention of violence

Hits to your jaw and your stomach. Slaps across your cheeks until they stung. Pain inflicted to your body until you passed out. That was all you could remember as you woke up on a cold floor, sore from the beating you had received the last time you had been conscious. Coughing dryly as you sat up, you held your aching head and adjusted your eyes to the darkness around you.

The hunt for the Devil had apparently gone really awry, since you were there and not the Winchesters. You wanted to clang at the bars, rattle your chains, do anything to attract the attention of whoever had taken you. If you were still breathing, there had to be a reason behind it, and it meant you didn’t have to be afraid of your host.

“Oy!” You called in the void, your voice uneasy and rough. “Anyone in there?”

“You’re making an awful lot of noise, sweetheart, let me tell you that.” A manly voice said, before some footsteps were heard. “But now you have my attention, so this better be good.”

“Who are you? And why did you bring me here?” you asked, squinting your eyes to try and find the person in the shadows.

“So you really don’t recognize me?” He asked, brutally opening the curtains to a window. You shut your eyes at the burning light, and opened them slowly. Leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest, Lucifer was staring back at you. He smirked at the evident shock on your face, walking closer to your cell and bending at your level. “Oh yes, sweetheart, it’s me. The Devil. Now,” he claimed, standing up again, “we didn’t start on the right foot, but I can feel we’re going to erase that and become great friends, you and I.”

“And what makes you so sure?” You didn’t keep your eyes off him, stalking his every movement to the slightest flinch of his muscles. He was Satan after all, you couldn’t let anything go unnoticed.

“First of all, because I’m going to trust you. It is the foundation of every relationship, after all.” With a wave of his hand, the lock on your cage flew open and the door creaked open. Knowing better than to bolt outside right into his claws, you got up and looked carefully at him.

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t say anything for a while, then moved towards the entrance of the cage, so you stood guard at the door, keeping it shut with your hands. The last thing you wanted was to be in there with him. “If you don’t mind staying outside.”

He stared at you in disbelief, then chuckled darkly. “You’re such a peculiar little thing. Aren’t you afraid of standing up to me?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” You simply said, but you immediately slapped yourself internally for revealing your distress. Of course, Lucifer jumped on the occasion, leaning against the bars.

“Desperate times, uh?” He quoted, visibly amused by the whole situation. “Tell me [Y/N], do I make you uncomfortable?”

You tried to lean back as much as you can, but with your hands still glued to the door you weren’t going very far. “What makes you think I want to be in the same room as you?”

“Good question!” Lucifer straightened up, walking around the room. “We’re getting a conversation here, good progress! To answer your question, well, I just know it. Your thoughts are very loud, [Y/N].”

Now realizing what he meant, you blushed furiously. “I have no idea what you’re-”

“Oh please, [Y/N]. I’m Satan, remember? You’ll have to try better than that to convince me.” He scoffed at your pathetic attempt of a lie. “But I gotta say, I’m flattered. I mean, you were 100% ready to kill me because the Winchesters had told you to, but at the last second you let me go.”

“You escaped. I would never-”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t let me go on purpose. So? Right, that’s what I thought. So yes, it was nice of you to let me go, but I gotta say you have pretty bold thoughts for a human being. I mean, having sexy thoughts is one thing, but having those with someone like me. Oh, [Y/N], it makes me feel all tingly inside.” He faked a shiver, and you clenched your fists around the bars.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it. It’s not like I control it or whatever.” It was true. You had been pleasantly surprised upon encountering the Devil for the first time. No horns, no spiky tail or bats wings, and instead he looked really charming to say the least. Of course it was wrong, but the thoughts had crossed your mind before you could dismiss them, and Lucifer had caught them immediately. “But then again, being a dickbag is what you do best, isn’t it?”

He clutch his chest, faking emotions again. “Ouch, [Y/N]. Hitting me where it hurts. I’m being nice to you and all, and this is what I get? This relationship seems a little bit one-sided to me, if I may say.”

“What relationship? You kidnapped me, Lucifer! Your men beat me up and brought me here to be sequestrated and taunted by you. So yeah, it’s only fair that I’m a bit pissy about the whole situation.”

“[Y/N], you got it all wrong! Except maybe the part where you were beaten up. That was regrettable and has been taken care of. But I did open the door for you, you’re trapping yourself in this cage. As for the taunting, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You made a face at him and rolled your eyes as he carried his sentence on.

“So what you’re saying is that I can walk out of here free if I want to?”

“If that’s what you want, all the doors are unlocked. But you and I both know that you will not walk out. Truth is, you’re curious and won’t leave until you get answers. Stop me if I’m wrong.”

You finally looked away. Of course, he had guessed right. Well, he had probably visited your mind without you knowing, but it didn’t matter anymore. He knew, and was holding you here by the sheer power of your own will.

“Why did you bring me here then, Lucifer? If it’s the Winchesters you want-”

“Screw the Winchesters. For once, everything isn’t about them, but it’s about you. You’re here because I want you.” He made a face, then shook his hands around as if to dismiss the heavy atmosphere. “That came out wrong. But here’s the thing: you’re very charming, and I want to know you.”

“Know me? Why, are human women suddenly good enough for you?” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Don’t get me wrong. Humans are still disgusting.” He shook his head. “Yet, you seem different.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m not like other girls?” You mocked him, raising a cynical eyebrow.

“I’m trying really hard to make my move, [Y/N], at least give me some credit for that.” He glared at you.

“I’d applaud you for the effort, but I seemed to be held back mentally. Oh wait, I just don’t care.” He made a face, then snapped his fingers and the cage disappeared altogether. You flinched as you realized there was nothing between the Devil and you, and stood in a defense position. “Stay back.”

“I will not harm you, [Y/N], and honestly it offends me a little that you don’t trust me more. If I wanted to do anything to you, believe me when I say I would’ve done it already.”

You relaxed ever so slightly, and searched his face for any sign of malice. “Then what do you want from me?”

“How about you join me for dinner? That’s about as harmless as can be.” He extended his arms like a sign of rendition. “No tricks, no nothing. Just you, me, and the questions we both have.”

You thought about it for a minute: there was no proof that all this wasn’t a trap, it was all about blind faith in Satan. Which, truth be told, was probably the craziest thing anyone could do. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you conceded.

“Okay. Alright, but the minute anything fishy starts happening, I bail out.”

“Sounds fair. Shall we go?” He showed you the way out, simultaneously pressing you by the small of your back.

“We shall.”


	9. Will you pretend to be my date for my family's holiday party? PART 2 [GabrielxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party so they’ll stop harassing me about being single? There’s food in it for you. 
> 
> PART 2
> 
>  
> 
> Pairing: GabrielxReader
> 
> Word count: 1835 words

The week had gone by at an excruciatingly slow pace, probably because you anticipated the Christmas party so much. You had gone over all the possible scenarios in your head, thought about all the answers you would provide, and polished your polite laugh, prepared to laugh at your siblings’ teasing and at your Uncles’ lousy jokes. Your entire wardrobe had been flung across your bedroom, trying to look for a suitable outfit, nice enough but not too classy, and you happened to own nothing that followed that description.

You had settled for a simple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, completed with Converse. Man, your sisters would have a field trip commenting your clothes, and not to mention your hair that betrayed how little you cared for it.

Loading your last necessities in a traveling bag, you looked up to spot Gabriel at your bedroom door, and it made you jump.

“Will you stop entering like that!” you stifled, holding your chest but being unable to repress a smile. He was about to answer, but your phone rang and you picked it up to talk to your mother. “Hey mom, yeah we’re almost there, and- yes, we, I- Mum, can we talk about it later?” Gabriel couldn’t hear what your mother was saying, but your crimson face said enough.

“Burlington, that’s our exit sugar?” He said, making sure to speak loud enough for your mother to hear. You elbowed him in the ribs, opening wide angry eyes, while your mother was almost having a stroke on the other end, gushing at how charming his voice was. “We’ll be there in 10 minutes tops, see you there Mum!” You hung up and tackled Gabriel. “The nerve of you! Take us to Vermont before I kill you!”

He helped you load everything you had to bring into your car, and you took place into the passenger seat while he sat behind the wheel. Just as the door slammed closed, you realized the landscape had completely changed: from your cold Kansas, you had traveled all the way to colder, snowy Vermont. Revving the car up, Gabriel drove according to your directions and until your house was in view.

Your heart clenched as it entered your sight: it was exactly the same as when you had left, except for the pretty lights your family liked to put up everywhere. Judging by the number of cars parked in the alleyway, your whole family must’ve been invited this year. Gabriel shot a glance at you, ensuring everything was alright on your side, and you sighed. His hand linked with yours, squeezing it reassuringly; the gestured made your heart skip a beat, but you elected to ignore it and nodded to him.

“Let’s do this.” You arranged both your hair and his, and exited the parked car. The door opened before you could even reach the threshold, a warm light shooting through the falling night and your mother appearing in the frame.

“[Y/N]!” She yelped, trotting to you. You ran into her arms, engulfing her into yours, and she cradled your head into her neck, covering you in kisses. “Oh, my baby, how I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.” you mumble into her shoulder, holding back tears. She cupped your face and looked over each of your features, from your tired eyes to each of your rosy scars.

“You’re grown so much, I can’t believe I missed you becoming such a beautiful woman… It’s been too long…”

“I know, I’m sorry Mom…” you fumbled an apology, but she smiled.

“Nonsense, you needn’t apologize my darling! You’re home now, and it’s all that matters.” She kissed your cheeks again, and finally let you go, looking over your shoulder. “And who may this be?”

“That’s Gabriel, my boyfriend.” They shook hands, your mother standing in stunned surprise and keeping his hand a second longer than needed. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. [Y/LN].” You thought he would make a comment in the line of “Now I see where [Y/N] gets her good looks from”, but thankfully he didn’t.

“The pleasure is all mine, Gabriel.” She couldn’t tear her eyes off the archangel, and you had to cough to get her attention. “Now, my dears, enter before you completely freeze! I’ll have your brothers take care of the luggage, [Y/N].”

“No need, I’ll handle it. I’ll join you inside.” Gabriel shot your mother a charming smile like he did so well, and you had to push her back inside. As soon as you two were out of view, she beamed at you.

“Oh, [Y/N], he’s got the looks of an Angel! And he has the name of one, too!” You laughed on the inside; if only she knew how close to the mark she was. “He seems wonderful!” She pinched your cheek playfully, and went to announce your arrival to everyone in the living room. Gabriel entered at this moment, and you went to kiss his cheek.

“And what did I do to suddenly deserve your good graces?” he asked, faking innocence. You shook a warning finger in front of his nose.

“You know damn well what you did, you sly dog…” you hushed. “My mom is already in love with you, keep up the act and you’ll pocket my entire family.”

“Who said I was acting out anything?” he said, and you blushed, rolling your eyes. As you appeared in the living room, your dad and your three siblings engulfed you in the biggest of bear hugs, almost choking you. They all spoke at the same time, commenting on how they had missed you and how you had changed, and you tried to answer everyone at the same time.

If you hadn’t been so busy with greeting all the members of your family, you would’ve noticed Gabriel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and a look of complete adoration all over his face. Your sister pointed a discreet finger at him, inquiring who he was.

“Everyone,” you said, linking your arm with Gabriel’s to bring him closer to your family, “this is Gabriel, my boyfriend. Gabe, Dad, my sisters and brother.” You introduced them all, while you greeted your Grandparents, Uncles and Aunts and your in-laws and their kids. You hadn’t been wrong, the whole family had been invited to the celebrations. By the time you were done catching up with everyone, it was almost time for dinner and your Mom allowed you a bit of time to have a shower and change into smarter clothes. A towel wrapped around yourself, you went into your old bedroom, where you would be staying for the weekend, and found Gabriel in active contemplation of your old teenage pictures.

“I’m leaving the room,” he stated before you could usher him out, “but please take in consideration the alternative outfit I took the precaution to pack for you. It’s on your bed,” he pointed before leaving.

He had actually laid a knee-length emerald green dress on your bed, paired with black heels. “Is my black t-shirt not good enough for you?” You questioned, trying the dress on.

“I didn’t want you to feel underdressed compared to your handsome angel boyfriend, is all.” You huffed, but didn’t argue. You quickly did your hair and makeup, although it was not something you were really used to doing anymore you did quite well.

“Are you ready, sugar?” Gabe called from behind the door, opening it. “Your mom just called us downstairs and-” he shut up when he saw you all prepped up, just approving of the sight.

“Like what you see, angel?” you teased. “You look quite smart yourself, if I may.” He bowed respectfully, and you smirked at his silliness. His hand pressed into the small of your back, pushing you forward to where the party was taking place. Your mom choked back her tears when she saw the two of you enter the room again, saying something about you being so grown up and another thing about beautiful grandchildren, which you elected to ignore although the blush was already on your cheeks. You were barely seated that the question shower began, the ball being opened by your father:

“So, did you two meet at work?” You nodded frantically before Gabriel could answer. You had a scenario polished in your head, and he just had to play along since your parents didn’t and couldn’t know you were a supernatural hunter.

“He was a witness in one of my cases, and I had to interrogate him. Turns out he didn’t know that much, but it kinda clicked immediately between us. Life had us meet again and again after that.”

“Oh, fate. She just has her ways, you know?” gushed your mom. “And did you two move in together yet? Do you have any plans in the near future?”

“Not yet, I’m still in my collocation with some friends in Kansas, but Gabriel makes sure to visit regularly. He has a very busy life, as well.” The attention shifted from you to Gabriel.

“Really? And what do you do then, Gabriel?” your brother asked.

“I’m a funeral counselor.” You choked on your cheese and cracker as he announced that. “I’ve always been very close to religion, and helping people is something I enjoy. I like to help my clients with their questions and worries, and seeing them leave reassured is always gratifying.” The shock on your family members’ faces was replaced by understanding, and they seemed even more fond of Gabriel after that. Unbelievable.

“Well, I should’ve known you were a good and religious man from the moment I saw you. You just emanate of good spirits, kindness and modesty. I’m very happy your path had to cross [Y/N]’s.” Your dad raised his glass. “I’d like to propose a toast before we pray.” Ah, that’s right, you had to pray before stuffing your face. You’d remember it next time. “To family, and the blessing of fate.” Everyone raised their glasses to that, smiling at each other.

“Gabriel, would you like to say grace?” invited your mother, to which he agreed and you had to repress a laugh. Everyone joined hands and closed their eyes, bowing their heads.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we bow our heads as we honor your presence at this table. We thank you for the delicious food that has been provided, and for each family member you have gathered on this festive day. We thank you for bringing souls together, in a way our daily lives never allow. Help us find and enjoy all of the blessings that you have placed in this Christmas day. Amen.”

The guests repeated the last word, and opened their eyes. You nudged Gabriel gently with your shoulder, signaling that he was still holding your hand.

“Not too bad,” you complimented him in a hushed tone, so he was the only one to hear.

“Hope you spotted my direct reference to you in it,” he whispered, kissing the back of your hand before letting it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! The requests will be posted very soon!


	10. Caring for a broken leg [DeanxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: DeanxReader 
> 
> Word count: 603 words

“Dean, I know you’re not on the couch anymore, I can hear you walking!” You said across the house, trotting downstairs to catch him raiding the fridge again. “How are you hungry? We ate an hour ago! Please sit down, the doctor said...”  
“I know damn well what the doctor said, but I’m still able to function normally thank you very much.” He grumbled, not moving away like you had told him to. 

You sighed: Dean had only had his cast for a week, and he was already playing with your nerves. He was not used to staying still all the time, and he hated not being able to do everything he wanted to do on his own. You even had to help him wash his feet, and that was the last straw for him. Of course, being his annoying self, he would just whine all day everyday, and you, Sam and Bobby were forced to listen to him complain.

You escorted him back to the couch, where he slumped down with a cookie pack, stuffing his mouth while looking anywhere but at you.   
“Are you about done?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.  
“Done with what?”   
“With that attitude!” You shuffled your hands, gesturing to his entire self. He finally looked up to you. “You’ve been a ray of pitch black ever since that stupid ghoul broke your leg, and it’s only been a week!”  
“What’s your point here?” You crossed your arms, frowning. You were more concerned about his mental health than you were angry about his attitude, but he wouldn’t let you talk about his emotions. He never talked about his emotions, choosing instead to bottle them up and let them built an anger which would very often take swings at one of you three. And as much as you loved him and tried to support his choices, you couldn’t stay away and watch him tear himself apart from the inside… especially over something as insignificant as a broken leg! 

“My point, Dean, is that you’re making a mountain out of absolutely nothing. I get it, you don’t like to feel diminished and useless with your cast, I really get it; but you know what? Making yourself miserable over this accident will not make things any better, only worse for all of us. I don’t like to reduce other people’s sufferings, but suck it up Dean. You’re a hunter, not a crybaby; so don't act like one.”

Dean was still frowning, but his expression had visibly softened as he reached for your hands. You unfolded your arms with an amused sigh, and held his hands.   
“I like it when you’re mad like that. Makes me go all gooey inside,” he joked looking into your eyes.   
“Ew Dean, gross.” You looked at him seriously for a second, then burst out laughing, soon joined by laughter of his own. “So you’re going to make an effort now and turn that frown upside down, sad clown? Or do we need to call Make-A-Wish for your last dying wish?” 

He pinched your sides playfully, making you yelp and giggle.

“I’ll manage. Except if you want to go to Disneyworld for free, then I can turn the frown back down if that’s all it takes...” He pulled you into his lap, careful not to touch his injured leg, and you nuzzled your face against his scruffy jaw.  
“As tempting as this trip sounds, I much prefer to see you happy everyday than see the happiest place on Earth once.” You softly brushed your lips against his, initiating a sweet kiss like you two rarely shared.


	11. Jealousy [CastielxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [REQUEST]  
> Cas and the Reader are best friends, but he becomes very jealous after seeing the Reader with Gabriel so much. 
> 
> Word count: 1534  
> Warning: mild cursing

Hunting was a difficult, dangerous and thankless job, but it had its perks. For once, you were able to travel a lot and see the States most than more people would ever see them in a lifetime; everyday you were doing what you liked, using your knowledge of the supernatural to save people and make their life better; and most importantly, you were able to meet a lot of different people and creatures. A lot of them were awful, granted, but the relationships you had developed with some of them were priceless gifts.   
The Winchesters were not easy men to live with, that was for sure, and sticking with them always meant trouble, but you had come to find out you couldn’t stay away from Sam’s dorkiness or Dean’s deeply hidden friendliness. With time, you had grown to know their angel companion Castiel, and you two had surprisingly become the best of friends. Maybe because you were the most patient of the lot to deal with his questions and manners, or maybe just because you secretly had a crush on him, there was no way to be sure, but your relationship was one of a kind’s.   
In those years spent with Sam and Dean, you had of course met their enemies, and watched some of them become your weird allies: you had watched Sam fall into Ruby’s engrenage before your helpless eyes, encountered the unpredictable demon Crowley, and fallen victim to Gabriel’s tricks. If you couldn’t place any trust into the two demons, the archangel was something else entirely: he had won your good graces by showing mercy and reason in what he did, and you appreciated his occasional visits when the Winchesters and you were apart. He only visited when the brothers weren’t with you, because he knew the welcoming committee wouldn’t be very warm for him, and you two had the greatest fun thanks to his angelic powers.   
Today was one of those lonely days, the Winchesters having on a left for a weekend hunt in the neighboring State. You had decided to stay back at your place, where all your books and knowledge was stocked, so you could help the brothers if you found the way to. But today was also the day Gabriel had chosen to turn your day upside down and bring you on one of his breakneck adventures.  
As per usual, he popped at out the blue, making you jump out of your skin as you were deeply engulfed in one of your hunting journals:  
“Sorry sweet cheeks,” he said, cracking a mischievous smile, “didn’t mean to scare you.” He was at your side in no time, reading over your shoulder. “Elves?” He tutted. “I thought you smarter than this, [Y/N].”  
You took your eyes off the page to look at him, leaning again a piece of furniture. “What do you mean?”  
“I may or may not be well informed about what the boys are hunting, but it depends how you’re asking.” He said, as innocently as he could manage, which was the most suspicious thing ever.  
“Gabriel, stop playing with me, please,” you begged, rolling your eyes, “if you know something, just tell me.”  
“I’ll tell you if you come with me.” His excited eyes and raised eyebrows were anything but reassuring, but you could trust him not to kill you at least and were tempted to blindly agree. “We’re going on an adventure! Don’t you like adventures [Y/N]?”  
You didn’t have time to process the sound of wings behind you before a familiar deep voice rung:  
“[Y/N] has work to do, and won’t be coming with you anywhere Gabriel,” announced the grave-looking angel. “I will request that you leave, now.”  
Gabriel’s face scrunched, but he huffed and left without further protest. You turned to Castiel, a bit surprised by his authority.  
“What’s up, Castiel? Shouldn’t you be helping the guys on the field?”  
“They’re not in a field, they’re in Kansas hunting.” You rolled your eyes at his lack of understanding of your expression, but said nothing of it. “But they won’t find anything, so I am going to tell them to come back.”  
“What do you mean, they won’t find anything?” You closed your journal and got up to face him directly.  
“The lore, the case, the victims… it’s all fake. I suspect Gabriel made it up, although I can’t prove it or explain why he would do that.” The angel looked intensely at you for an uncomfortable amount of time, and you laughed nervously, looking away.  
“You know Gabe, his greatest form of entertainment is torturing the boys.” You fixed your hair as a mannerism, trying to look anywhere but at Cas who was still searching your eyes.  
“But why would Gabriel send them away if he could torture them anywhere, is what I’m trying to figure out.” The way he insisted on Gabriel’s full name was really weird, it was as if he was correcting you for the nickname you had given the archangel in your previous sentence. “It’s as if he wanted them to be away.”   
When you thought about it, it was very weird that Gabriel had made the Winchesters leave, and if you added to that the fact that he had left without putting up a fight.  
“You think he did that so I would be alone with him?”   
“It could be. It’s a good thing I was there to put an end to that mess.” He concluded, and you rasied you eyebrows in shock.   
“I don’t know what you’re imagining here cowboy, but Gabe and I are only god friends, and we occasionally go on activities together which is our right as friends. There’s no mess here for you to contain.” It was a bit offensive from Cas to act so important about the situation, and you forgot your awkwardness to tell him exactly what you were thinking.   
“I don’t think you should engage into any activities with Gabriel, [Y/N]. I think you should select someone more in your line.” Your jaw dropped at the bluntness of his words.   
“So basically I’m not good enough to hang around Gabriel, that’s what you’re saying? You know what Castiel, screw you and your tiny angel morals.” You were about to leave the room, but hit a wall of black feathers. You took a step back in pure shock and awe, realizing you were almost looking at Castiel’s real angelic form. Following the line of the wing muscles, you looked back at the angel, who seemed to have grown a few centimeters in a matter of seconds. Or maybe it was just you who felt smaller from is outburst of dominance, there was no way to be sure.  
“Let me out,” you gulped down hard, “please.”  
“We’re not done here, [Y/N].” He answered, taking a step back and folding his wings around you so you couldn’t leave. “What I meant was that I don’t like seeing you with Gabriel. He’s not right for you, he could destroy you if he was bored then bring you back to life without you even noticing.”  
“That’s…. not very reassuring.” Your breath was quick, your mind racing wondering why Cas was holding you against your will to finish by all means this argument.   
“When I see you with my brother, it makes me angry. It makes me… feel like I am feeling right now. I don’t understand why I feel this way, but there’s nothing I can do to help it. As long as he is here, I can’t approach you and it makes me mad.”  
You squinted your eyes in understanding: “Cas, you’re jealous of Gabriel?” It wasn’t even said in the questioning tone, because you knew it was that. He kept quiet but didn’t let you go, still holding you really close to him, so close that you could feel his breath against the skin of your neck. Cas was usually very awkward, but the Cas whose hands were all over you, and it made you feel very weird. A good kind of weird though, the kind you could get used to. “Cas...” you whispered as he took you by the waist, pulling you closer to his body.  
“I want you to be mine, [Y/N], and I can’t do that if my brother gets in the way.” He kissed your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps where he had applied his lips and cutting your breath short.  
“He’s not here now….” you said, fighting to keep some control over your sensations. “What are you waiting for?”  
Apparently, all he was waiting for was your cue, as the end of your sentence unleashed a side of him you had yet never seen. Long gone was the scrawny know-it-all wannabe detective that helped you on cases; the Castiel whose hands were on every inch of your body was all angel, in all its power and fierceness. If you were honest with yourself, it was slightly scary to see the lust in his eyes, and feel the pure energy emanating from him, but it was how you had always dreamed it would be. And so you let yourself go to the pleasure induced by Castiel’s expert touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not easy to write! Sorry for the delay, it has been requested several times and it is finally here! I hope you liked it, and if you did, do tell me!   
> Love!


	12. I've got you [DeanxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A N G S T 
> 
> (ye be warned)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: DeanxReader
> 
> Word count: 1374
> 
> Warnings: cursing, graphic character death

It’s crazy how a situation can turn around in the blink of an eye. One minute you’ll have everything under control in a perfect harmony, and before you know it your world collapses in ashes and crumbles to your feet. Everything was perfect between you and Dean, until you got into a stupid fight that left the two of you brooding and cold to each others for days, and with no chance of making up in sight. Thinking back on it, you couldn’t even remember why you had started fighting. Maybe you had complained about how obsessed his work would turn him sometimes, or maybe he had complained that you were an attention-seeking child at times. You were both exhausted and wearing thin on your nerves from your most recent hunt, and the fight had quickly escalated into an open declaration of war, with each of you yelling everything that came to mind about the other on an aggressive tone you had never even used. You hadn’t even cried, although arguments usually provoked tears on your part, which would unconsciously make Dean realize he had gone too far and push him to apologize for what he had done. But this time had been different. You would probably have screamed until your voices ran out if Sam hadn’t separated you.

Dean had concluded the fight with a sentence you could forget, although it had been a week since he had said it: “I can’t continue like this.” To this day, you still hadn’t figured if he meant it about your relationship or the life you were leading as hunters. Trying not to think about your endangered future with Dean, you had focused back onto your work for the current hunt which was driving you all mad. After looking up thousands of pages of lore to find out what you were actually hunting, you weren’t even sure it was what you thought, or how many were out there, but you were going out to hunt them anyway. “Ripping off the Band-Aid more quickly”, Dean had called it. It was not like him to rush a hunt, but he wanted all this to be over so he could discuss your relationship and eventually get rid of you, too.

Shaking your head, you focused back onto the real world, where you were minutes away from the big fight with the beast. You checked your barrel one last time, and it was as full of silver bullets as the last time you had looked; patting your sides, you still felt your angel blade, your demon knife and your wooden spike. Whatever you were about to face, you had what it would take to finish it. Or so you hoped…

The Impala came to a stop, and Sam recommended you to be the most careful you had ever been.

“I’m not a child, Sam, I’ll be careful.” You looked at him, and crossing his worried eyes you immediately felt guilty about lashing out on him. “Sorry. I promise I’ll take care.”

“Can we just go and be done for?” asked Dean, exiting the car with his gun in hand.

“You know at some point you’ll have to confront him, right?” said Sam more than he asked. You sighed and nodded.

“When we’re done, I’ll talk to him.” You left the car, too, looking around at the disused warehouse. You felt an unfamiliar pit in your stomach, and realized you were afraid of what you would find in there. Or worse, what would find you. Brushing off your scary thoughts, you snored inside your mind. You were acting like a child, indeed. You were a hunter, you had done this a million times and you weren’t about to be scared away by a mystery monster you could easily kill.

Listening to your gut instincts had always been one of your reflexes, and it had saved you more than once. You just weren’t yourself that day. Your life wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was in order, it fell harmoniously as you planned it. And before you could notice, it crumbled to your feet.

You didn’t even hear it coming. You didn’t feel the gush of wind its arrival provoked. Before your brain could process anything, the pain took over all of your senses at once, shutting your mind down completely. All notions of space and time, of dignity and survival were gone as soon as the spike pierced through your abdomen like it was a paper wall. Had you known anything about anatomy, you would have known that it had ripped open your stomach and your pancreas, and that your spine had been gravely severed. If you had been able to dull the pain, you would have felt that your legs were incapable of moving, as well as everything under the damaged area. But anatomy didn’t matter anymore, because no doctor in the whole world could have repaired the harm the spike had done in a single blow.

You didn’t cry, nor did you scream in pain like you would have normally done for a less important injury. It was all too much pain at a time for your brain to command a reacting to it. When the burning sensation stopped and turned into an ice cold feeling, you did vomit, a dark mixture that was probably more blood than anything your stomach had ever contained. Not that you were in the right mind to distinguish anything. Your vision came back from one moment to another, but it wasn’t more than a blur.

“[Y/N]? [Y/N]?!” a voiced was calling you. _Dean…_ it was him, but he seemed so far away, like he was calling you from the top of a mountain or the end of a cave. “[Y/N] do you hear me? Sam call 911, now!”

 _Don’t do it, Sammy…_ you knew you wouldn’t make it. The pain was already fading away, and you knew it was almost over. _Don’t do it… don’t…_ “Don’t...”

“Baby, you here?” Dean’s voice was a bit clearer now, and you could distinguish his face a bit better. “I’m here, don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here. You’re not dying on me, [Y/N], I- we’ll...”

“Dean...” you articulated really well considering your state, but it pained you. “It’s over.”

“It’s not, we’ll get you a doctor, you’ll be fine-” His voice was uneasy, and you could hear the sobs in his throat. Dean never cried, but he was crying now. He was crying because he knew, too. He knew that you had spent your last minutes together arguing, and that it was too late to apologize now.

“It’s time, Dean.” You could feel yourself go. It was death like you had always imagined it. Not sudden and peaceful, but messy and gradual. “Stay with me, Dean.”

“I won’t leave you, [Y/N].” The sob tore his voice down, but he tried to keep his last sentence clear so you would understand it. “You can leave, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, now and forever.” He was holding you close to him, not caring about the clothes he was ruining with your blood and guts. Dean would never wear that jacket or those jeans again, nor would he ever laces on his boots, because the pain was something he would never wash off if he tried a million times.

“I’ve got you.” You repeated, managing a crooked smile. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped, like an old grandfather clock that one had forgotten to wind. You looked at the scene before your eyes, the devastating sight of your death provoking uncontrollable and hysterical sobs in Dean’s body, and you sighed at the realization that there was nothing you could do anymore. You had come to terms with death many years ago, because it was part of the job and you knew it was inevitable. But seeing your mangled body laying inside out in the arms of the man you loved was not something you had ever anticipated, and you had to look away.

Behind you, a lady with a kind smile and dark hair sighed too. She offered you a friendly hand, and you took it before anything could change your mind.


	13. The right thing [Nephilim! reader part 2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: slight CastielxReader
> 
> Warnings: cursing, mention of parent's death
> 
> word count: 3182

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand, the nephilim reader prompt!  
> Enjoy!

_“At the bottom of your heart, you know that what you’re doing isn’t for the greater good, Castiel. I’m powerful, and that scares your Dad, but I’m not dangerous, and you know that. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it for the others. Now if that makes you feel any better,” you extended your arms, “go ahead and do your Daddy’s dirty job.” Castiel looked reluctantly at you, his blade drawn but not prepared to attack. He was thinking over what you had just told him. Maybe there was a chance of saving your ass, finally._

“Can we just all go back inside and talk it over between civilized people _\- beings_?” asked Dean, obviously overwhelmed by everything that was happening. You threw a nasty glance at Castiel, who scrunched his face and disappeared in an instant. You were both relieved and angry that he had left, because if he took with him any threat to your life, you’d have to deal with the brick he had thrown in the pond on your own.

Bobby and Sam were up now, as well, and if they didn’t look exactly sharp they seemed ready for a conversation of this importance as you came back inside the house. That was one good thing about smart men, they were always up for using their heads.

“What’s going on here?” grumbled Bobby, his voice still heavy with sleep and grumpy from being up so early.

Sam didn’t say anything, but his eyes were clearly interrogating Dean in a way only he could manage. Of course, he would never be able to guess what was going on, so it was better to just spit it out.

“Castiel attacked [Y/N],” simply stated Dean, leaning over the sink and crossing his arms, indicating that he was pretty mad at something. And that was you. Sam’s face dropped and he opened big eyes:

“You saw the angel, [Y/N]?” He asked.

“Oh I saw him, alright,” you scoffed. “He tried to kill me.”

“Really?” said Bobby, opening surprised eyes as well. “Why?”

You lost your fake smile, throwing a quick glance at Dean who remained unreadable. He would not help you in this conversation. “Um… that’s, uh, that’s actually something I’ve been meaning to mention for a while, and...”

“Oh, so you were only going to mention it?” finally said Dean, raising his voice. “I feel like you should do a bit more than _mention_ it, [Y/N].”

“You’re right, but it was not easy for me. It’s not one of these things I can just talk about at a Sunday dinner.” _Because it would have ruined everything good in my life_ , you thought. “Please- please just don’t get mad at me, or judge me too quickly. If you’ve ever been my friends, please take time to consider things.”

“[Y/N], you’re really making us worried here,” said Sam, his eyebrows furrowed anxiously. Sam would probably not get mad at you. As far as you knew, he was the rational side of the duo, and he didn’t judge creatures too quickly if they wished for redemption.

“I’m not human. Not entirely, actually. I’m what the books call a nephilim, which is half human and half angel, and this mix makes me one of the most powerful creatures on both Heaven and Earth. And Castiel came because-”

“Wait.” Your heart got stuck into your throat as Sam interrupted you. “You can’t just lay all this on the table and expect us no to ask questions. A nephilim? Half _angel_?” His voice was almost disbelieving, as if he expected you to be pulling a prank on all of them.

“My dad.”

“How? I mean, I thought there was no such thing as mixed babies when it came to the supernatural. Bobby, you knew about this?”

The bearded man kept silent for a while, and he finally made a nonchalant face. “Of course I did, boy, who do you take me for? I just never thought they would be so ordinary. No offense [Y/N].”

“None taken.” Actually, of all their reactions, Bobby’s was your favorite. He knew your species from the books, and therefore knew how dangerous you really were, but he didn’t seem really shocked or afraid.

“Can we please stop pretending there’s no issue here?” spat Dean. “You’ve been hiding something pretty big from us [Y/N], and honestly I’m offended that you didn’t trust us enough to tell us. I hate that I have to find you wrestling with an angel to know you really are.” You released the tension in your body all at once.

“You’re not… mad at me?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“I can’t be mad at you for who you are, [Y/N], but I sure am that you put yourself, and us, in danger by never telling us that Heaven was after you.” Now that he mentioned it, he sounded more like an angry brother than a hunter that wanted to skin you. “You’re lucky it was just Castiel, or else you’d still be lying out there.”

“If I may, I had the upper hand on him. I’m clearly more powerful than-”

His glare discouraged you from continuing, and you looked down. “I’m very sorry that I never mentioned it to you guys, but I was so afraid. You have no idea, I was afraid you’d cast me out, or worse...”

“Worse?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“I thought that… maybe… you’d try to kill me if… you knew.” Your voice was gradually lower, until it died in a whisper. You were ashamed of yourself for thinking so low of the brothers, ashamed of your stupid fears.

“Honestly, [Y/N], after all we’ve been through together?” asked the older Winchester, now clearly hurt. “You’ve saved our asses too many times to count, at this point it doesn’t even matter if you’re a goddamn werewolf!”

“Oh, bite me Dean.”You finally found the courage to speak up. “With the way you’ve treated Ruby, you can’t pretend like you’re not a little racist of other species.”

“Racist?” repeated Sam, and an awkward silence fell in the room. It was Bobby who broke it, with his thunderous laugh that provoked a burst of hilarity in all of you.

“Racist!” repeated Bobby again, patting your shoulder. “You really are something else, [Y/N]. I can’t believe you actually thought, even for one second, that one of these idjits would be able to kill you.”

“[Y/N], you’re family to us.” said Sam, setting his hand on your arm and pulling you into a hug. “Don’t you dare think we would ever, ever hurt you.” He released you once he was sure you had felt how loved you were, and you turned to Dean, your head still hanging low in shame. He was still leaning against the sink, but he motioned for you to come closer. Dean wasn’t exactly big on physical contact or demonstration of affection, but he hugged you too, though less tight than Sam had. As he released you, he planted a kiss to the crown of your head, which was about the most tender thing he had ever done in your presence.

“How are you going to deal with Castiel, [Y/N]?” asked Bobby once you were done. “He seems pretty fierce, do you really think you could overpower him?”

You thought about it for a second. Everything you had ever read about nephilims indicated that they were the strongest beings in creation, so it must have meant they were stronger than angels as well. “I’m pretty sure I could, but I don’t know if I want to,” you confessed. “I don’t want to kill him if I can help it. I’d rather change his mind than get rid of him altogether, if he wants to listen to me.”

“She takes too much after you, Sammy,” snickered Dean. “How do you plan to change his mind?”

“I haven’t gotten to that point yet, but I suppose I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Facts and reason, probably. I’ll tell you about it when we’re through.” Before the boys could understand what you meant, you snapped yourself to another location, following the angel’s trail. He was surprisingly easy to find, as if he had wanted you to have a conversation with him. When you arrived, he was standing next to the sea, watching the tide rush in and out and playing with a shell in his hand. You approached cautiously, and he cast a single look at you before turning back to the sea.

“It’s beautiful,” you commented in a soft voice.

“It really is.” He looked for a few seconds more, then finally turned to you. “But you didn’t come here to comment on the sea, did you?”

“You know why I’m here, Castiel. It’s not fair that you kill me without at least letting me defend myself.”

“Creatures like yourself have no right to defend a life that should never have started,” he spat, and you swallowed thickly.

“You’re wrong. You are so wrong, and you know it, because what you say is not what you believe.” You weren’t making anything up, you knew that the angel was more than he seemed, and that underneath that grumpy exterior laid a gentle and intelligent being.

“What makes you think that anything you say is right? You don’t know me. I’m everything you have seen so far, and nothing else. I know it.”

“No, no you’re wrong Cas, you’re wrong about yourself and you’re wrong about the world. What Heaven teaches you is so out of touch with reality, you have to realize that! They don’t know the first thing about me, and they’re applying to me a stereotype of attitude they have last observed centuries ago! How is any of this fair, tell me?”

He didn’t answer. He seemed deep in thoughts, but also as if he was battling his own thoughts, like he didn’t want to be thinking about it because he didn’t want to be the deviant angel that starts questioning orders.

“My mother was an example of selflessness like you rarely see them in society anymore.” If words couldn’t convince him, maybe your story would. It would hurt you because the memories of your love ones always stung like an old scar, but if it was your only shot to convince him you had to try it. “She would always put others first, and wonder what she could be doing at any moment to make someone’s situation instantly better. The number of shawls she gave to homeless people is too damn high for me to remember, but I do know you would always need a new one after when had gone on a walk. When I asked her about it, she just said she didn’t need it as much as they did, and that she didn’t really care about that shawl anyway. Of course, she would always be sick the next morning.” You actually managed a sad smile at the memory. “Mom had such an ailing health. She used to say she prayed for the Heavens to save her. She believed so hard.”

This time, you couldn’t smile. Your mother had believe all her life that Heaven would save her from her illnesses, but Heaven had sent mercenaries to kill her. The thought of it was enough to make your blood boil, so you chose to move on. Castiel was surprisingly attentive to your stories, occasionally throwing a shell in the water and watching it sink, then picking another and turning it in his hand to clean it from the sand. He didn’t comment on anything, but he listened. That was all you needed.

“I always knew the truth about my dad. They never hid it from me, neither did they ever hide me my true nature. It was scary for a young child like me to know all this, but at the same time it felt so incredible to have a secret so big inside your heart. Dad wasn’t always home, but when he was he made sure he was making up for the time he had spent away from us. We’d go to restaurants, or the movies, or sometimes we would just sit outside and watch the stars. Mom stayed indoors, the cold would have made her sick if she had sat in the grass until midnight like we did.” You could almost feel the cold grass under you, hear the shuffle of your father’s wings as he shielded you from the rising wind with them. “I’d ask about the stars, and he’d tell me about what was above. Heaven. Where he went when he wasn’t there, what he did there, what he had done since the world had existed. It was like talking with God himself, the way his eyes shone when he talked about the things he had helped create, the pride in his voices when he explained them to me.”

Castiel had stopped throwing his shells, his attention now fully on you, but still not saying anything.

“My dad was great, I do remember that. He would always do these amazing things to make me smile. Like, he’d make sparks fly from his palms and pass them into mine, and we’d watch the light flicker together.” Castiel remained silent. “Mom and him were very close, maybe because they were so young and in love. I was never in their plans, especially with dad being a superior being and all, but they were so happy to have me as well.”

“But he knew it was wrong,” interrupted Castiel, finally talking. “He’d come back to Heaven for appearances, and acted like nothing was happening downstairs. I knew your father, [Y/N]. He was a higher-ranked angel, so we didn’t meet very often, but he was always respectful of me when we did. Very humble and obedient. Maybe that explains why nobody discovered you until very late.”

“Dad loved humans, he always told me so. And he taught me to love them, as well, in spite of their flaws and their ignorance, because deep down they were good and loving things that were just afraid. So I did.” You wiped a single tear from the corner of your eye. “I gave humans the best of me, I never wronged them because I wanted to bring out the good in them. Meeting Sam and Dean is the best thing that ever happened to me, honestly. They feel like family, and I love them per se.”

You stared in the distance, far away from where you were standing. “You have a good heart, [Y/N].” Castiel finally said, turning to look at you. “I know it. You use your powers to do good things around you, I’ve seen it. When I came here, I expected the monster all the angels describe you as in Heaven. The abomination that shouldn’t exist, and that I was meant to kill.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind about that. I would’ve hated to kick your butt in hand to hand combat.” He probably didn’t get the joke, because he didn’t smile. His presence was both very intimidating and awkward, and there was nothing that your jokes could do to help you loosen the atmosphere.

“I haven’t changed my mind, [Y/N], because the decision was never mine. Killing you is an order, and I’m only a soldier doing his job.”

“Castiel, you can’t… please...” you backed up a few steps, afraid that he would pull a blade out of his sleeve and stab you here and now. “You’re better than this, I know it. I feel it. You’re meant for so much more, but if you kill me now you’ll never be able to go back.”

“If I don’t do it, what will I be? A rebel soldier, destined to fall from Heaven.” His voice almost sounded sad now, like he was really having the argument in his head.

“You’ll be a good person. Look inside your heart, Castiel. You’re more than just a soldier, so much more than that.” You pursed your lips. “I’m not your enemy, and you know it.”

He looked away from you, staring back at the distance in silence. You approached him carefully so he didn’t feel threatened, but he looked your way distrustfully so you didn’t get any closer.

“Your father was a good man. I should only hope you are as much like him as you pretend.”

“If you just stick around, Castiel, you could work with the Winchesters and me, and you would see.”

He actually looked like he was thinking about it for a while, but scrunched up his nose. “A man who crawled out of Hell, a boy with demon blood, a bastard creature and a disobeying angel. What a team we’d be.” He huffed at the idea, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Life isn’t about what you’re made of, or what has happened to you; you are who you decide to be when the day begins. Dean wakes up every morning deciding to be the man who lived. Sam gets out of bed to be the man who saves the lives of other people. I spend every night I don’t need to sleep through trying to come up with solution to the Winchesters’ problems and cases, and every day putting into acting those words and ideas. The day will come when you’ll decide that there are things more important than a place in Heaven or the orders of a God who doesn’t even remember creating you. I hope that that day, you’ll come back to us, Castiel.”

He thought about your words, letting them sink in for a while before he said anything in return. “Your father was full of wisdom too. He always had something to say that would spark confidence and hope into others. He inspired me to become as good as I could be, even if his words were not directed at me specifically.” The angel finally looked at you, and his eyes held no trace of the previous anger or resentment, although they were still hard and cold. “The memory of him is the only thing holding me back from killing you today. I’ll keep an eye on you, [Y/N], and I hope you keep it down and use some of your powers to hide from Heaven. I’ll… tolerate you, for now.”

Your heart leaped in your chest, and you could’ve hugged the angel at the moment. “Thank you, Castiel.”

He nodded his head, and looked at you once last time before disappearing. You stayed the rest of the night on that beach, your fond memories still floating through your head as you listened to the tide washing in. As the sun began to rise in the East, you smiled sheepishly as you thought about Castiel. Everything in you knew that you’d meet again in better circumstances, and you sighed happily at the idea. Because right before he had vanished, you could’ve sworn you had seen, even just for a second, the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips.


	14. Death's Lesson [Death]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader has cheated death multiple times, and has helped others escape it as well. Death itself takes the Reader to show them why death is necessary and why people should go when their time comes.
> 
> Warnings: mention of death  
> Word count: 1263

Being born with the ability to alter events was a gift that had no equal. Past, present or future, there was nothing that happened that you couldn’t control. As a kid, you had basically graduated because of your gift, taking exams several times before you could eventually ace them, but as you had grown up, you had taken care of more important events, such as natural disasters or mortal incidents.

Merely in the past year, you had prevented a thousands roadkills, a terrible flood in your State and the death of many neighbors and family members. You had even saved yourself from a fatal car crash, moving back a few seconds to make yourself swerve just in time. Of all the things you had modified, no one kept any memory: you were the only one aware of the first reality everyone was supposed to go through. Your job was thankless, but you took joy in using your gift for it anyway. Of course it was wrong, every scientific law about time and reality told you that, and what you did to save your reality had to have repercussions on someone else’s, but never really liked to think about the larger scale.

One morning however, you didn’t wake up. Your spirit was awake, but your body was still as a rock, and nothing could have moved it. Slightly panicking, you tried to concentrate on what you usually did to move back in time, but it didn’t seem to work however hard you tried. Your spirit wouldn’t get back into your body.

“What is going on?” you asked yourself out loud, pulling at the roots of your hair.

“Good morning, [Y/N],” said a steady voice by your side. You jumped away from the form next to you, eyeing it up and down. It was a very slender old man, dressed like a gentleman and leaning some of his weight on a cane. No one that you had ever met before, and yet there was something very familiar to him that you couldn’t quite place.

“Who are you? Did you do this to me?” you were getting more angry than panicked now, because it had to be him who had done it. If not, he wouldn’t be there to see you become insane at the sight of your still body.

“Yes, I did this to you.” Your mouth fell agape at his brutal honesty, but before you could say anything he continued. “I am Death.” This time you closed your mouth, thinking over was he had said and wondering whether to laugh or cry. His claim was ridiculous, and yet… it made sense. You were dead, and now Death wanted to lecture you for what you had done, for escaping him and letting others escape. “You do know why I’m here, [Y/N]?”

“Is it because of my gift?” you said, but it came out as the beginning of a sob. How embarrassing must you be, crying in front of Death himself. The old man nodded apparently not bothered by your scene.

“Walk with me, [Y/N].” He gestured for you to follow him, and you did. “I’m here to teach you a lesson.”

You gulped down with difficulty; was this the part where the real Death, the one with the skeletal form and the scythe, would appear to you?

“What you did all those years is wrong. You manipulated time and played with people’s fates, and that is really wrong.” You both walked in a park now under a row of trees, watching the yellow leaves fall to the floor. “But I understand your motives. You thought you were doing what was best, and it’s normal that you did. But you know, [Y/N], there comes a time when people must die, so that their opportunities can be seized by others.”

“That’s horrifying...” you mumbled, shaking your head.

“Yet it’s true. But all Men must die, so all Men can live. That’s the cycle of a life, and that’s how our world loops so perfectly.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that what he said was wrong, that death didn’t have to be the final door for everyone, that eternal life should be possible for good people on this Earth. But you didn’t. You didn’t, because those were the words of a child, and you were better than this.

“Good people deserve saving.” You simply stated.

“I understand your way of thinking, [Y/N]. I used to think like that, too, but experience taught me that good people deserve to die like anyone else. In the face of Death, there are no heroes, no criminals, no children and no elderly. Everyone dies for a reason, and it’s my job to help them go in their own time and for a reason they’ll understand.”

The two of you remained silent, as you processed Death’s words. It was all a blurry mess as you tried to understand his point of view, but you just could think straight. He noticed that.  
  


“Why don’t you join me for work today, [Y/N]? Maybe it’ll help you understand.” You nodded, and he made you switch location. You were standing in a hospital, and people kept walking past you like you didn’t exist. All things reconsidered, it was normal that they did. You were dead, after all. Death walked into a room, and went to touch an old lady’s forehead. The line immediately dropped flat, and the lady’s soul exited her body. She never said a word, but politely nodded her head at Death, and he nodded back before he made her disappear in a flash of bright light. When the light died, there was only the beeping of the flatline and the frenzy of doctors that shook the room.

As you left the room, you encountered two people crying in each other’s arms. _The family_ … you thought, holding yourself back from comforting them. There was nothing you could do anymore.

“I understand for the old lady… she was suffering, and you let her go peacefully...” you started, speaking hesitantly.

“She never felt a thing,” promised Death.

“But the family? They’ll be pained for months… it’s not fair on them.”

“Pain is necessary to feel relieved one day. These people lived chained to the lady’s bed, in fear of missing her last moments and in hope of her getting better. By letting her go, I set them all free from the pain of dying.” You were starting to understand, now.

It was sad and scary, but you understood Death’s point of view now. “Good people deserve to die because they deserve closure. That’s it, isn’t it?” you asked sheepishly. Death nodded. “I may have saved lives in the short term, but I have cut short paths for others by doing it. I get it now.” You finally looked at Death, feeling strong enough to do so. “It may be too late, but I get it now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not too late, [Y/N]. You’re not dead yet, you’ll still have time to think about it when you come back downstairs.”

“You’re putting me back?” After all this, you didn’t expect Death to be so conciliatory, and hadn’t even hoped to change his mind about killing you.

“That was always the plan,” he simply stated, a hint of smile on his lips. “Lessons are made to be learned, not thrown away. I should only hope you learned yours, [Y/N].”

Before you could answer, he tapped his cane against the floor and you woke up, inhaling deeply as if you’d just been underwater for a long time.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update about the requests, I have good and bad news!  
> For the bad news, the Michael requests are postponed until I find the inspiration to write them. Michael is not a character I can easily write, because we don't know him that much and he is very negative. Sorry about that.  
> But the good news is, the Male Reader/Lucifer request is in the works, as well as a Wedding-themed imagine with another character... I leave you on this, stay amazing!


End file.
